


Sight

by offensiveagentpie



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Fluff, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-17
Updated: 2012-12-17
Packaged: 2017-11-21 09:17:23
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 355
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/596049
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/offensiveagentpie/pseuds/offensiveagentpie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>John knew enough of sappy romantic clichés to know that upon seeing the object of your affections asleep for the first time, you were supposed to note all sorts of beautiful aspects about the moment.</p><p>Part of the 100 prompts challenge:  40. Sight</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sight

The first time it happens, John is absolutely gob smacked. 

Returning home from a late shift at the clinic, he found the flat to be worryingly quiet. Sherlock hadn’t contacted him about a new case and as far as he knew, his flat mate had planned on staying in that night. The last time it had been this quiet upon his return, Sherlock had caught fire to the microwave and, like a guilty child, was trying hard to avoid punishment.

“Sherlock? Sherlock, I swear if you’ve blown something up again I’ll—”

He hung his coat on a hook and entered the living room with wide eyes, falling completely silent as he took in the sight on the sofa.

And what a sight it was.

There was Sherlock, fast asleep. Sherlock. Sleeping. Sherlock…sleeping. The sheer surprise of the moment held him in place, completely still for nearly a minute.

Not knowing what else to do, John tip toed quietly around to the front of the sofa for a better look. He knew enough of sappy romantic clichés to know that upon seeing the object of your affections asleep for the first time, you were supposed to note all sorts of beautiful aspects about the moment.

But Sherlock, as always, had to be an exception. His long, gangly body lay at an odd angle, right hand drooping to the floor, left hand sticking out awkwardly from underneath his chest. His face was turned slightly to the side and all of the composed, haughty looks of Sherlock while awake were a distant memory. Cheek smashed into the pillow, his mouth hung slightly open, lips contorted and puffy as he snored ever so slightly.

John fought a valiant battle against a fit of laughter and managed to snap a few pictures on his phone. The shutter noise caused Sherlock to mumble and shift slightly, and for a heart stopping second, John thought he would wake.

Luckily, he slept on. And, lack of poetic sentiment aside, John couldn’t help the fresh wave of love and fondness he felt wash over him as he gently kissed Sherlock’s messed up curls.


End file.
